


Pad Thai

by justrae2010



Series: Phichuuri Week 2017 [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, NSFW, Phichuuri Week, Smut, phichuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justrae2010/pseuds/justrae2010
Summary: Yuuri raised his eyebrows down at the takeout box, genuinely surprised. “Okay, that is not bad.”It wasn’t what he was expecting. His body hummed in appreciation at the food, settling nicely in his stomach against the churning alcohol.Phichit’s grin was annoyingly smug. “See.”The fork was back when Yuuri blinked, fresh noodles on offer. This time Yuuri didn’t hesitate to lean forward. His arms shifted to brace on the mattress either side of his thighs as he closed his lips around the food, lingering around the slowly retreating fork while he savoured the taste.Then the cold plastic was gone.And warm lips were there instead.______Yuuri and Phichit fumble around the blurred lines of their close friendship and take it to a whole new level - with a little help of some liquid courage and irresistible Thai food.Day 4 of Phichuuri WeekPrompt : Friends to Lovers





	Pad Thai

“Who has Pad Thai at 4am?!”

“I do!”

Yuuri and Phichit stumbled back to their college dorm at ridiculous-o’clock in the morning, an arm slung around each other's shoulders to keep them both walking straight. It didn’t work. Clumsy fingers trailed along the wall in the dark, guiding the them back to their room. 

It had been a wild night. Yuuri thanked God for Phichit’s fake ID and his smooth talking their way into that club, the beat of the music still pumping in his veins. It had been perfect. They'd danced, they'd drank, Yuuri had made out with some hot guy in the back of the smoking lounge and had left with a phone number written on his arm… they had staggered from club to club, until eventually they'd had to call it a night. Very reluctantly. 

It was while Yuuri had been trying to hail a cab that Phichit had spotted the night-time Thai takeout van.  He hadn't been able to resist. 

Honestly, Yuuri wasn't sure about Pad Thai. It was something about the peanut sauce that threw him - or maybe that was just the van being sloppy. 

“Don't mock me, Yuuri. We Asians should be sticking together.”

Phichit’s hip bumped playfully against his and even though it was only a small nudge, Yuuri nearly went flying. Jack Daniels always shredded his balance. He couldn't fight the grin spreading in his face though, mirrored on his best friend. 

They both fumbled with the door key, dropping it twice. 

“Do the thing-”

“-I am doing the thing-”

“-obviously not enough!”

“Just give it a shove, will you?”

“It doesn't need a shove, you just need to lift - see, like that!”

“Just eat your food…”

Yuuri was too drunk to be embarrassed or angry. Not that he and Phichit ever really got angry at each other. Mild annoyance was the worst it had ever gotten and that was only when Phichit beat him for the hundredth time in a row in one of their all night gaming marathons or spilled coffee on his favourite jeans. 

Phichit kicked the door shut behind them, louder than was reasonable for 4am. The noise bounced around Yuuri’s skull. He could already sense how bad his hangover would be in the morning.

The room was dark, but Yuuri could still make out the faint outline of their rejected clubbing outfits on the floor and the glow of Victor’s Nikiforov’s silver hair from the posters on the walls. Empty wine glasses sat abandoned on the little desk perched between their two beds. The other faced the wall at the end of Phichit’s bed, littered with discarded eyeliner and mascaras of all quality and colours that Yuuri could ever dream of.

“Have you ever even tried it?” The words muffled with Phichit’s mouth full.

“What?”

The second bed was all but ignored as Yuuri flopped down on his and Phichit crawled on the end too, draping his legs over Yuuri’s. The room span a fraction as Yuuri bounced on the mattress. 

God, he was drunk. So, so drunk. They really should have some water before sleeping, Yuuri couldn’t help but remember, but his limbs sank happily into the sheets. The bed was soft, and warm, and comfortable, and so what if Yuuri had a killer hangover in the morning or could barely breathe because his throat would be as dry as sandpaper-

Phichit noisily scrapped his plastic fork along the bottom of the takeout pot, scrambling for some noodles. “Pad Thai. Have you ever even tried it?”

The sound scratched at Yuuri’s sanity with every passing second, throwing an arm over his eyes at the headache starting to throb behind them. He gritted his teeth against it. His skull felt like it was weighed down to the pillow with rocks, listening to the blood pounding too loudly in his ears and his heart beating too noticeably in his chest. The bed was calling him to sleep, but the way Phichit’s legs bobbed over Yuuri’s that obviously wasn’t going to be happening just yet. Maybe when the food was gone and Phichit was sated would be finally go back to his own bed.

Yuuri dragged his lead-like arm off his face, pushing up on his elbows to see how much food was left; his face twisted at the half full takeout pot. “No.”

“Here, try.”

For a moment Yuuri just stared at the fork in front of him. Noodles, dripping in thick sauce, still warm even through the cold walk home. 

“Come on, it won’t kill you.”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered up to Phichit’s face over the food and quirked his eyebrows. A dismissive shrug was all he got back.

Sighing, he pushed himself more upright, resting back on his the heels of his palms instead of his elbows. The forkful of food followed his barely parted mouth. Phichit’s eyes were alive with light behind it, following the curve of Yuuri’s lips until they settled. Clearly, Yuuri wasn’t getting out of this. He dropped open his jaw to get it over with.

The fork teased into his mouth and Yuuri closed his lips around it, fluttering his eyes shut. Sensation exploded on his tastebuds. The peanut crunched, the hint of chilli fired him to life, the noodles soft but not mushy. It was  _ damn  _ good! Yuuri groaned appreciatively. 

He raised his eyebrows down at the takeout box, genuinely surprised. “Okay, that is  _ not  _ bad.” 

It wasn’t what he was expecting. His body hummed in appreciation at the food, settling nicely in his stomach against the churning alcohol.

Phichit’s grin was annoyingly smug. “ _ See.” _

The fork was back when Yuuri blinked, fresh noodles on offer. This time Yuuri didn’t hesitate to lean forward. His arms shifted to brace on the mattress either side of his thighs as he closed his lips around the food, lingering around the slowly retreating fork while he savoured the taste. 

Then the cold plastic was gone. 

And warm lips were there instead.

Yuuri’s eyes shot wide. 

Phichit’s face danced in front of his, eyes fluttered shut with his eyelashes fanning out over his tanned cheeks and barely parted mouth pressed delicately to his. 

A million things ran through Yuuri’s head while his head stopped dead in his chest, drunken thoughts trying to wrap themselves around the fact that  _ Phichit was kissing him! _ He could taste the peanut sauce lingering on Phichit’s mouth, the faint hint of spice sensually tingling at his lips. Yuuri wasn’t prepared for the needy sound that rumbled from his chest. It felt…  _ good. _

The takeout pot clattered to the floor.

The second Phichit’s head turned to look, Yuuri’s hand was delved in his hair, tugging him back to his mouth in a way that pulled a strained gasp from the Thai boy.

Their mouths collided hard.

It was nothing like the first kiss.

The first kiss had been sweet. Tentative. Unsure. This time… there was nothing unsure about the way Yuuri’s fingers curled in Phichit’s thick black hair or the way Phichit moaned against Yuuri’s mouth. Hands fell to Yuuri’s upper arms, gripping tight. Yuuri shifted closer. 

He didn’t want to think. He could feel sober-Yuuri rearing his head in the back of his thoughts but drunk-Yuuri beat him back down again. A voice of reason wasn’t what he wanted right now. He wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be accepted - even for a short while - and Phichit was  _ right there, _ kissing him first like it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt like it was, Yuuri thought, hand falling to Phichit’s outer hip to draw him ever closer up Yuuri’s lap.

Suddenly, his slim black t-shirt felt too stifling. Yuuri broke the kiss for half a second while he yanked the offending clothing over his head, humming deep in the back of his throat when Phichit did the same. The new expanse of tan skin went straight to Yuuri’s groin.

His head swooned - probably a combination of the alcohol and the blood suddenly flowing south in his body - but he hardly cared as Phichit’s hands pressed into his chest, forcing him back down onto the bed. Legs rearranged around Yuuri’s torso, Phichit settling his knees either side of Yuuri’s waist. Warm skin pressed against Yuuri’s chest. He curled up his arms instinctively, clinging to the Thai boy bearing down on him as their mouths crashed together, lips moving hard and fast. Yuuri’s fingernails dug into the back of Phichit’s shoulders, relishing the way the boy squirmed deliciously at the sensation.

Something welled in Yuuri’s chest that he was too drunk to acknowledge. He wondered if Phichit felt it too. His alcohol-hazed brain was beyond caring now though, more concerned with the tightness in his jeans than that in his heart. He was all touch and sensation, desperate to fill that primal void that longed for attention.

Phichit’s tongue pushed clumsily against Yuuri’s lips, and he opened them instinctively, fingers tangling in the belt loops of Phichit’s jeans and tugging their hips flush. Something zinged through Yuuri’s system like a live wire. His skin was on fire as the hard bulge in the front of Phichit’s trousers pressed against his own growing need, Phichit’s fingertips trailing a blazing path down Yuuri’s toned torso. Yuuri’s palm flowed up and down the length of Phichit’s body, urging him on.

If he were sober, Yuuri would flush with embarrassment. He would cross his arms and hide the little pockets of fat that hugged around his lower waist and just refused to harden into muscle no matter how hard he pushed himself on the ice.

But he was not sober and his hips pushed up, searching for friction. He found it in the front of Phichit’s jeans, tangling his fingers in the back of Phichit’s hair and sucking very deliberately on his tongue. His spare fingers grazed down Phichit’s chest, feeling the muscles shift and tense subtly beneath his surprisingly gentle touch. He hadn’t realised he had the coordination to be gentle with the amount of alcohol coursing through him.

Of course Phichit was fit. The amount of time spent on the ice easily saw to that, but  _ no  _ \- Phichit just had to go to those damned pole dancing classes to make those chiselled abs absolutely irresistible. It was only now Yuuri took notice, thumbing each little powerpack of muscle greedily. He should really join him in those classes one day...

He nearly whined when Phichit pulled off his mouth, but the loss was quickly compensated with Phichit’s lips on his throat, clumsy fingers fumbling at the zipper of his jeans. The air caught in Yuuri’s lungs at the sensation.

He couldn’t think of anything more perfect in that moment as Phichit kissed hastily down his neck, his collarbones, his chest… the warm skin of Phichit’s torso slid down Yuuri’s body, lips leaving a tentative trail in their wake. They followed the thin v-line of muscle that led down to Yuuri’s hips, mouth hovering over the button of his jeans. Deft fingers prised it open, the tip of Phichit’s nose grazing Yuuri’s happy trail. 

Yuuri’s jeans tugged down around his thighs - black briefs taken with them - and his erection sprung free eagerly, hard and ready. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d wanted this. His body spoke for him.

A firm thumbpad dragged down the underside of his cock, Yuuri glancing up just in time to see Phichit regarding him with his teeth snagging his lower lip teasingly. Something unnamable glittered in his eyes, something beyond the drunken spark of alcohol. Yuuri tried not to linger on it. Instead, he clenched his fist in the sheets at his side while Phichit was out of reach. It was a poor substitute.

Hot air fanned over Yuuri’s cock and he blinked back out of his thoughts, but by the time his mind had caught up to what was happening - his best friend leaning down over him - Phichit’s mouth was already on him. 

“Ugh, God!” 

Yuuri threw his head back into the pillows at the warmth engulfing his length, nothing preparing him for the intense sensation. It was more than he’d imagined.

And,  _ yes,  _ he’d imagined Phichit. How could he not? Phichit was pretty, and hot, and right there  _ all  _ the time - how could Yuuri not notice him?! Not that he’d ever thought anything would ever come of it. He supposed though that nothing really had yet. Not properly. They were drunk. This didn’t count.

For something that didn’t matter though - Phichit’s tongue swirling tightly around his head before he pulled it into a firm suck - it felt  _ damned  _ good.

Yuuri’s teeth crashed down onto his lip. 

Phichit’s fingertips ghosted around his hipbones, cradling him tenderly while he simultaneously wrecked Yuuri in minutes. Yuuri couldn’t believe how hard he was so fast, feeling himself swell even more in Phichit’s mouth. He was so close already, heat pooling in his gut.

His fingers delved into Phichit’s bobbing black hair, anchoring himself to reality as his best friend started to find a rhythm. It had Yuuri’s eyes rolling back in his skull.

The tight sensation of Phichit’s mouth dipped over Yuuri’s cock at a tantalising pace, tongue flicking the tip with every up stroke. Ragged gasps panted out of Yuuri in response, blood alight with desire he hadn’t realised he’d been holding back until now. His hips flexed instinctively beneath Phichit, searching for more. More what, he wasn’t sure. More heat; more tightness; more speed - he didn’t know, but he was still thoroughly enjoying himself while Phichit figured it out. 

His body was alive with sensation, fluttering his eyes shut because the sight of Phichit’s lips stretched around him like that-

Something snapped inside Yuuri, hand twitching in Phichit’s hair. 

“P-Phichit, I’m gonna-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish before Phichit bore down harder than before, taking even more of Yuuri’s cock into his mouth until it bumped the back of his throat. The him that followed - vibrating up Yuuri’s length - was his undoing.

Yuuri smacked his hand over his mouth, muffling the almost animalistic cry that left him as he felt thick ropes of cum spurt from his length, hidden by Phichit’s smothering mouth. Heat exploded in his gut. Mind blowing tingles shuddered down to his fingertips in a way he wasn’t prepared for as his orgasm ripped through him, fingers flexing in Phichit’s hair. He half expected him to pull away - but he didn’t. Instead, Phichit slyly slid a hand up behind his hips and squeezed a firm handful of Yuuri’s ample ass, swallowing everything Yuuri had to give. 

Time became meaningless. All Yuuri was aware of was the blood pumping thickly in his ears, the comfortable warmth that spread through his system as his release subsided, and the steady slowing of his heartbeat as he came back down to reality. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there catching his breath, Phichit lapping gently at his softening cock.

They shouldn’t have done this, Yuuri suddenly found himself thinking. They were drunk and friends - best friends. At least, they had been. Best friends didn’t do what they’d just done though. Nobody should while so intoxicated, with so many blurred lines around them.

Yuuri’s fingers twisted gently in Phichit’s hair, enough to get his attention. Round, grey eyes blinked up at him, Yuuri’s spent cock slipping out from between his lips.

Suddenly,  _ shoulds  _ and  _ labels  _ were the last things on Yuuri’s mind. 

His hands grappled at Phichit, pulling at his arms, shoulders - wherever he could reach to tug the Thai boy up to his mouth for a rough kiss. It was hard and messy, teeth clacking while something hard and clothed in denim rubbed needily against Yuuri’s thigh, baying for attention.

His tongue pressed between Phichit’s lips as he cupped over the rough fabric, tasting the strange saltiness of himself on his best friend’s tongue. It was beyond anything that Yuuri had ever imagined.

Hands dove between them and Yuuri wondered if he’d always been so clumsy. His fingers worked on the button of Phichit’s jeans like it was a Rubik’s cube and trembled as they dragged the zipper down. He couldn’t believe they were really doing this… it didn’t stop him hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Phichit’s jeans and underwear though, the Thai boy wiggling to free himself.

His erection lay heavy against Yuuri’s hipbone, a bead of precum sticking at the firm line where Yuuri’s hip met his torso. Yuuri’s fingers closed around him tightly.

There was no gentle. Phichit didn’t need gentle - Yuuri could tell by the hard press on his mouth with every firm tug, the sloppy strokes of his best friend’s tongue. He wanted this. Now it was Phichit’s turn to be all touch, skin and sensation, just like Yuuri had been. He knew exactly what it felt like, exactly what Phichit needed. Fast, strong strokes drove his point home; after all, what Phichit needed most was to-

A groan slipped between them and wetness spilled over Yuuri’s fingers.

Phichit thrust lazily into Yuuri’s fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes scrunched shut and face buried in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. His breaths were shaky over Yuuri’s skin, lifting tantalizing goosebumps.

Warmth smothered Yuuri as Phichit’s body slumped down over his - spent - squishing the mess between their stomachs. Yuuri found it difficult to care. He was too busy surrendering to the lull of bliss and the comfortable glow of Phichit’s body curled against his, eyes fluttering shut at the darkness slowly wrapping around his mind. Phichit was satisfied, and so was he. A contented smile curved over Yuuri’s lips as he slipped into deep, dreamless sleep, his best friend-slash-lover wrapped tenderly in his arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Keep tabs on works @ https://justrae2010.tumblr.com/
> 
> Please drop a comment before you go !


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